Rebuttal Rewrite- beforeverge

The Cognitive Capabilities of Plants

The consciousness of a plant is seemingly necessary for an emotional ability and access to empathic feeling. The consciousness of plants is discussed in the article “Plants Neither Possess nor Require Consciousness” by Lincoln Tiaz, Daniel Alkon, and many following authors who claim plants cannot be deemed conscious due to their lack of a brain and sensory systems. They explain that plants have not followed the process of evolution that animals go through to access higher levels of intelligence. While plants do lack the actual components that require a conscious mind, they have multiple cognitive abilities involved in learning, perception, and sharing tendencies. The behavior that plants display is surprisingly consistent with empathy in humans.

To begin, the survival of plants goes beyond their individual selves, with fungi branching the roots of plants together to form mycorrhizal networks. The article, “Multiple control levels of root system remodeling in arbuscular mycorrhizal symbiosis,” by Caroline Gutjahr and Uta Paszkowski explains the system of underground fungi. They specifically mention “arbuscular mycorrhizal symbiosis,” a type of fungi connection that penetrates the cells in the roots of plants, allowing them to exchange information and nutrients through this lifeline.

The plants and fungi, or mushrooms, each benefit greatly from this connection; it is seen as a healthy relationship to provide prosperity to an environment. The authors describe that the mushrooms collect nutrients from the plants, like carbon, taking a cut for themselves to ensure survival, then return phosphate and nitrogen to the plants. The elements aid plants in their growth, specifically with lengthening roots and creating more branches, allowing them to absorb even more minerals from the soil.

While this partnerships seems to be just a lucky deal, Suzanne Simard discovers the social side of this relationship in her book, Finding the Mother Tree. The author describes the community plants form from this link, providing each other with the proper nutrients when a plant sends a chemical distress signal through the mycorrhizal network.

Simard realized a strange relationship between two plants, studying the link between birch and fir trees. She found that they exchange carbon throughout the year. Fir will provide carbon to birch when the tree is in it’s best thriving season, and birch will do the same in it’s own best season. With research, she discovered that fir trees are mostly relying on birch, as birch could sustain itself, alone, without the help of fir trees. It seems that fir was only giving carbon to birch to return the favor. Simard questioned if the relationship has any extra benefits since this exchange appears to be more one-sided.

This inspired her further studies on how much aid trees will provide each other through the mycorrhizal connections. Simard’s next research focused on fir and pine trees. She infested a Douglas fir tree with spruce budworms, a species that attacks the tree, eventually killing it. Not only did she discover that the fir trees released a large amount of carbon to their neighbors, but the pine trees formed “defense-enzymes,” just as fast as the fir trees had to attack the infection.

The creation of defensive-enzymes in the pine trees is truly amazing, which Simard explains is used to create better resistance to disease, and could be passed down to offspring, ensuring their survival. This goes further than just a mutualistic relationship, or a simple chemical reaction. Humans create defenses such as this in the form of a vaccination. We want our new generations to be healthy and prepared for the sicknesses that affected us.

Not only that, but the discoveries brought up a lot of questions for Simard at the idea of a familial relationships in trees. The infected trees also sent carbon to specific neighboring trees, like younger saplings, as they were dying, which the author debates as an “inheritance.” The Douglas firs could be sending out the last of their resources as they decay, supporting younger trees to grow in their absence. She later finds that the Douglas fir trees can recognize their kin and “favor” them, sending extra carbon, iron, and other valuable nutrients to those connections. They can identify their “relatives” using “kin-recognition molecules.” The younger trees end up with more mycorrhizal connections and resources due to the help of their ancestors.

Simard remarks about both discoveries:

Over millions of years, they’d evolved for survival, built relationships with their mutualists and competitors, and they were integrated with their partners in one system. The firs had sent warning signals that the forest was in danger, and the pines had been poised, eavesdropping for clues, wired to receive messages, ensuring the community remained whole, still a healthy place to rear their offspring.

The forest remarkably resembles a human community. Some may argue it is just a survival mechanism, yet human care is displayed for the same reason. A community such as this supports one another for the benefit of neighbors and future generations, just like people. Plant behavior shows incredible signs of care and empathy for the struggling organisms in their environment.

The most astounding research for further intelligence and cognitive capabilities in plants comes from the Journal of Comparative Psychology. The text, “(Re)claiming plants in comparative psychology,” written by Umberto Castiello, explains the many similarities in human and plant intelligence. The author calims that plants have embodied cognition, or “a kind of situated cognition that assigns cognition to parts of the body other than to the central nervous system.” As well as extended cognition, or cognition that “extends beyond the physical boundaries of the organism,” and enactivism, the ability to engage with the environment and form relationships.

Even without a central nervous system, they have amazing capabilities. Castiello discusses these more in depth, acknowledging their abilities. As mentioned before, plants can recognize their own species and communicate with them, even creating family-like communities. Plants have been seen retaining a short-term memory, learning when stimulation is harmful or not. They make decisions based on risk factors in their environment, like choosing to grow roots in different types of soil or “moving” to more or less shaded area. Plants even interact and send signals to entirely other organisms, like pollinators, too attract them in yet another interdependent relationship.

Overall, the behavior of plants is so much more than just a series of instincts. They appear to have conscious abilities in recognizing when a neighboring tree is a relative, or knowing when they must protect their younger generations. In reality, at a base level, animals and humans can be seen as having simple chemical reactions just like the average perception of plant habits. Both plant and human display actions of caring for their counterparts, alerting for harm and sharing the extra profits they carry to those in need. The relationships that plants form is so alike to the communities of humans, and our families. The behavior is remarkably similar to human empathy.

References

Tiaz, Lincoln, et al. “Plants Neither Possess nor Require Consciousness – Sciencedirect.Science Direct, Aug. 2019. Retrieved November 29, 2022

Paszkowski, U., & Gutjahr, C. (1AD, January 1). Multiple control levels of root system remodeling in arbuscular mycorrhizal symbiosis. Frontiers. Retrieved November 21, 2022

Simard, S. (2022). Finding the mother tree. Random House US.

Castiello, U. (2021). (Re)claiming plants in comparative psychology. Journal of Comparative Psychology, 135(1), 127–141.

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5 Responses to Rebuttal Rewrite- beforeverge

  1. beforeverge's avatar beforeverge says:

    Does my argument about the capabilities of plants make sense? I’m having trouble explaining properly that, to me, plant behavior is more than instinct.

  2. davidbdale's avatar davidbdale says:

    Most people would assume plants are simple organisms, only relying on chemical processes to survive and sustain their growth. When viewing their basic functions, such as photosynthesis and reproduction, this appears to be true. It sounds bizarre to say a plant could be qualified to feel emotion, or the emotion of another. Although, looking deeper at plant communication, cognition, behavior, and root systems can reveal their truly complex abilities.

    —Citing “common assumptions” as your Worthy Opponent is not a particularly strong Rebuttal argument, BV, but considering most readers probably do resist the idea that plants are empathetic, it’s not terribly important here.
    —That said, if you can find a credible source that says, “That’s just nuts!,” cite it.
    —You only hint in your introduction that plants are empathetic. That’s called “burying the lede.” Consider making a bolder claim, since your final sentence does go there.

    The survival of plants goes beyond their individual selves, with fungi branching the roots of plants together to form mycorrhizal networks. The article, “Multiple control levels of root system remodeling in arbuscular mycorrhizal symbiosis,” by Caroline Gutjahr and Uta Paszkowski explains the system of underground fungi. They specifically mention “arbuscular mycorrhizal symbiosis,” a type of fungi connection that penetrates the cells in the roots of plants, allowing them to exchange information and nutrients through this lifeline.

    —Understanding this network is crucial to your argument, so be sure we know how it looks. (If you’ve done so in your Definition and Causal arguments, you can shortcut it here, but ONLY IF you’ve helped us visualize the network elsewhere.)

    The plants and fungi each benefit greatly from this connection; it is seen as a healthy relationship to provide prosperity to an environment. The authors describe that the fungi collect nutrients from the plants, like carbon, taking a cut for themselves, then return phosphate and nitrogen. The elements aid plants in their growth, specifically with lengthening roots and creating more branches, allowing them to absorb even more minerals from the soil.

    —I don’t clearly see two trees here with roots near each other’s mingling with something (roots?) the fungi use to join or connect the two. Is that what it looks like? You say “plants” as if fungi (why do you not call them mushrooms?) are not plants. Later, you’ll make clear you’re describing networks of pine and fir trees. Why not help us see that here?

    While this partnerships seems to be just a lucky deal, Suzanne Simard discovers the social side of this relationship in her book, Finding the Mother Tree. The author describes the community plants form from this link, providing each other with the proper nutrients when a plant sends a distress signal through the mycorrhizal network.

    —Is there any way you can “scientize” the “distress signal” enough to satisfy the non-scientist reader? You use the term often, but we’re unclear whether trees Vibrate, Emit Electric Pulses, Whimper, Leak Niacin, or Sound an Airhorn to “send a distress signal.”

    Simard realized a strange relationship between two plants, studying the link between birch and fir trees. She found that they exchange carbon throughout the year, the tree providing carbon being in the season when they thrive best. With research, she discovered that fir trees are the ones mostly relying on birch, as birch could sustain itself, alone, without the help of fir trees. Simard questioned if the relationship has any extra benefits since this exchange appears to be more one-sided.

    —If you can rephrase the second sentence, please do. Does it mean that Birch and Fir trees thrive in different seasons, and that each “provides carbon” by leaching it into the soil during the season it is most robustly thriving?
    —If I understand the third, it means that Birch don’t rely on carbon from Fir even during their more dormant seasons, but, being neighborly, they leach what they can spare when Fir needs it most?
    —You don’t have to sound scholarly at the cost of clarity and charm, BV. Readers won’t mind a friendly tone in an essay like this one.

    This inspired her further studies on how much aid trees will provide each other through the mycorrhizal connections. Simard’s next research focused on fir and pine trees. She infested a Douglas fir tree with spruce budworms, a disease that attacks the tree, eventually killing it. Not only did she discover that the fir trees released a large amount of carbon to their neighbors, but the pine trees formed “defense-enzymes,” just as fast as the fir trees had to attack the disease.

    —If “spruce budworms” means what it sounds like, it’s not a disease but an infestation of worms that destroy spruce buds, probably by eating them, preventing the buds from maturing into whatever they do (cones?). I guess they’ll eat and kill fir trees too, if they have a chance.
    —Again presuming I understand, the fir produce defense enzymes which, really guessing here, the worms or larvae ingest from the buds to their peril? That might save the fir, but I don’t see how it would help a neighboring tree except to deter the bugs from wandering.
    —Once more guessing, do the pines produce defense enzymes to help the fir? If so, how does it help the fir? If the enzymes are produced in the buds of the pine, don’t they protect only the pine? That seems like “the forest” protecting itself, but it doesn’t sound like the pine protecting the fir.
    —The human analogy would be: I’m not at high risk for a virus, but my society is, so I get vaccinated mostly to protect the more vulnerable members of my tribe. Does the fir ask for help?

    The creation of defensive-enzymes in the pine trees is truly amazing, which appears to be supporting the fir trees in a time of crisis. These plants show behavior similar to the giving nature of humans. This goes further than just a mutualistic relationship, or a simple chemical reaction. People are seen doing the same thing, providing for the ill when they are in need. It creates a community of support like a human society.

    —This analogy depends a lot on the logic of the previous paragraph.

    Not only that, but the discoveries brought up a lot of questions for Simard at the idea of a familial relationships in trees. The diseased trees also sent carbon to specific neighboring trees, like younger saplings, as they were dying, which the author debates as an “inheritance.” The Douglas firs could be sending out the last of their resources as they decay, supporting younger trees to grow in their absence. She later finds that the Douglas fir trees can recognize their kin and “favor” them, sending extra carbon to those connections.

    —You must have shivered a bit when you read this. It really is a beautiful idea I hope very much is true.
    —The first part could be refuted with a counterclaim that dying trees are merely decaying, and that “broadcast leaching” of carbon is an accident of their demise.
    —But if you can explain how the trees “target” their carbon releases to their “kin,” I’ll be shivering too.

    Simard remarks about both discoveries:

    Over millions of years, they’d evolved for survival, built relationships with their mutualists and competitors, and they were integrated with their partners in one system. The firs had sent warning signals that the forest was in danger, and the pines had been poised, eavesdropping for clues, wired to receive messages, ensuring the community remained whole, still a healthy place to rear their offspring.

    —This lovely quote echoes a remark I made above. The fir didn’t say, “I’m in danger; please release enzymes to help me.” The fir says, “I’m being attacked by budworms. We’re all in danger. Produce enzymes to protect yourselves so we can all survive. [Vaccinate yourselves so the virus doesn’t spread from the healthy to the unhealthy.]”
    —After you consider that, please help us know what a “warning signal” is. I’m hoping it’s a recognizable Root Dance.

    The forest remarkably resembles a human community. Some may argue it is just a survival mechanism, yet human care is displayed for the same reason. A community such as this supports one another for the benefit of neighbors and future generations, just like people. Plant behavior shows incredible signs of care and empathy for the struggling organisms in their environment.

    —If you’ve been planting clues about healthy humans vaccinating themselves to protect the entire community, I think readers will be more inclined to accept your very bold resemblance claim that forests are like human neighborhoods.

    The most astounding research for further intelligence and cognitive capabilities in plants comes from the Journal of Comparative Psychology. The text, “(Re)claiming plants in comparative psychology,” written by Umberto Castiello, explains the many similarities in human and plant intelligence. The author reveals that plants have embodied cognition, or “a kind of situated cognition that assigns cognition to parts of the body other than to the central nervous system.” As well as extended cognition, or cognition that “extends beyond the physical boundaries of the organism,” and enactivism, the ability to engage with the environment and form relationships.

    —That’s astounding all right, and hard to swallow. Let’s say I want to believe that roots (or networks of roots and mycorrhizal somethings) swap chemicals to their mutual benefit. What does believing they’re somehow cognizant of what they’re doing add to the picture?
    —I don’t know what else “cognition” could mean besides mental awareness, so it’s a big ask to want me to imagine the roots thinking about how to interact.
    —I will say this: when an insect touches the fibers of a venus flytrap, and the plant responds by collapsing on the meal, it’s hard NOT to argue that the plant was “aware” of the opportunity and responded to its benefit.
    —Is “they have reflexes” enough of an acknowledgement to support your claim of “cognition”?

    Even without a central nervous system, they have amazing capabilities. Castiello discusses these more in depth, acknowledging their abilities. As mentioned before, plants can recognize their own species and communicate with them, even creating family-like communities. Plants can retain a short-term memory, learning when stimulation is harmful or not. They make decisions based on risk factors in their environment, like choosing to grow roots in different types of soil or “moving” to more or less shaded area. Plants even interact and send signals to entirely other organisms, like pollinators, too attract them in yet another interdependent relationship.

    —I really like it, but I want to suggest that you don’t have to present it as fact just yet.
    —Let your readers hold onto their resistance and objections for awhile. You might lose them if you force them to choose “thinking plants” before they’re ready.

    Overall, the behavior of plants is so much more than just a series of instincts. In reality, at a base level, animals and humans can be seen as having simple chemical reactions just like the average perception of plant habits. Both plant and human display actions of caring for their counterparts, alerting for harm and sharing the extra profits they carry to those in need. The relationships that plants form is so alike to the communities of humans, and our families. The behavior is remarkably similar to human empathy.

    —As before, if you keep gently insisting that the phenomena Castiello and Simard observe and report “looks so much like thoughtfulness or cognition that no other explanation is as satisfying . . . ” or words to that effect, your resistant reader won’t feel bullied.
    —Lay the challenge to them. You’ve only had 3000 words. It’s a lot to accept. Don’t phrase it as a Rhetorical Question, but put it to your readers: If trees behave in ways that benefit others, not themselves; if their behavior seems always to result in greater health to the entire forest, someone else will have to explain how that behavior could be accidental, not intentional.

  3. davidbdale's avatar davidbdale says:

    P.S., I love it, BeforeVerge, but you won’t win the argument without carefully prepping your readers to slowly accept the inevitable conclusion that they have no better explanation for the phenomena you present than yours.

    Provisionally graded. This post is always eligible for Revisions and a Regrade.
    I’ll be devastated if you don’t do significant revisions and make this as good as it can possibly be.

  4. beforeverge's avatar beforeverge says:

    I made revisions to the best of my ability. I would like a regrade.

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